


bruises and bitemarks

by dormant_bender



Series: two's company, three's a crowd. [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, I Don't Even Know, I'm Not Ashamed, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, One-Sided Relationship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Romantic Fluff, Threesome - M/M/M, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 20:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6821932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormant_bender/pseuds/dormant_bender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only meant to be a one-time thing, at least until it wasn't.</p><p>( The blond blames it on Neymar and his stupid parties. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	bruises and bitemarks

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno, like ??
> 
> Threesomees ??
> 
> With my new fav ot3 ??

    Three forms are sprawled leisurely across the king-sized bed watching a movie the youngest had chosen on Netflix; some romantic-comedy that was rather lackluster in the funny department. But somehow the young Brazilian managed to laugh at the slapstick jokes regardless, along with the older male who merely snickers at it.

    But Marc was distracted by the look on the younger's face and how one of the veins in his neck would contract whenever he uttered a laugh. He shifts within his spot to wrap an arm around him, tugging him close against him. A scoff is uttered from the opposing side of Rafinha, however, and he can't resist the urge to roll his eyes. 

    Another set of tanned hands appears to tug on Rafinha—whose comfortable sandwiched between them despite it all. The brunet makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat as he shifts in favor of the warmth radiating from the German, which only serves to irritate Neymar even further.

    "Ever heard of sharing, Ter?"

    Marc and Rafinha glance at the Brazilian whose practically fuming much like a young child would when dissatisfied. The blond quirks a brow at him imploringly, his fingers trailing up and down the length of Rafinha's russet arm. "Technically he's my boyfriend, you're just the plus one on occasion."

    Another snort echoes from the brunet in the center of the feud, curiously looking onward at the elder Brazilian for his retort. "You have him literally every other day of the week, plus I'm apart of this triangle now. Right, Rafa?"

    This time he doesn't laugh—how could he?—but instead releases a soft sigh. All the while Marc ponders why he had even allowed this peculiar arrangement to occur in the first place. It was meant to be a one-time thing after what had happened back at that stupid party a few weeks ago, but no. Of course not. It had happened at least a handful of times after, the two men often resorting to inviting the hazel-eyed life-sized child over.

    Who happened to be more possessive than the blond if that were even possible. Always feening for any ounce of attention he could garner from the younger, mostly chosing to ignore Marc's presence—which, what an asshole, muses the blond as he watches the exchange between the two Brazilian's. His fingers don't relent in their aimless patterns on Rafinha's smooth skin though, he continues to stroke his flesh until Neymar glares at him.

    "The whole fighting for my attention thing was cute the first three times," murmurs the youngest of the trio as he rolls his eyes and reluctantly detaches from Marc, who grunts in response. "I pity your future girlfriend or boyfriend—or whatever you're into now."

    An amused chuckle spews from Neymar at that as he watches the brunet shift towards him. Tanned hands immediately press him down into the comforters, pinning his hands above his head. Marc huffs in disapproval at the action but can only watch the two; a flushed Rafinha, and a determined Neymar who glances up at him with a smug smirk.

    "It's my turn, don't you think?"

    "You know Rafa's a person, right? With feelings? Not a thing that you can just do whatever you want with whenever you want to?"

    Rafinha smiles warmly up at Marc but his eyes are wide with sympathy, "And this is why Marquinho is my official boyfriend. You're sort of a dick sometimes, Ney." He returns to gazing up at the Brazilian then, the male pursing his lips firmly.

    "I may be a dick but you like my dick, don't you princesa?"

    "I can't watch this.." Marc murmurs more to himself than aloud as he brings his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs, then burying his face within the space made there.

    "Marq—"

    Neymar, whose crimson in the face at the lack of attention he continues to receive, surges forward to connect their lips in a bruising kiss. Decidedly annoyed with how Rafinha continues to ignore him only serves to fill him with envy and he despised being jealous—probably more anything else, really. Hence the way he's nipping anxiously at Rafinha's lower lip, tugging it harshly between his teeth, until the younger is a moaning mess beneath him.

    Tanned hands are already occupied with slipping swiftly beneath the navy blue t-shirt he adorns to press his palms flat against the muscles of his abdomen that twitch under his cool touch. He tilts his head to gain better access to those reddened and thoroughly abused lips, working his lips open with his own until he meets the latter's tongue halfway in a battle for dominance.

    Which was probably one of the perks of the occasional hook-ups with Neymar, mused the brunet, as he spreads his legs to better accommodate his body until he fits within the contours between his thighs. He was always granted dominance from an obliging Marc without little to no fight from the German. It was different now, with the way Neymar refuses to let up with his administrations, at least until he releases a squeak when the Brazilian tweaks his nipples.

    Marc watches with furrow brows, still not completely okay with the whole situation, but doesn't breathe a word. Instead he attempts to focus on the television still currently playing the movie but finds that it's nowhere near as entertaining as the sight unfolding beside him. He wets his lips with his tongue as he stares at Rafinha and how his face contorts beautifully beneath Neymar, can only smile softly when he opens his eyes to peer up at him. 

    Neymar turns his attention to nipping and sucking at Rafinha's neck then, allowing the brunet to stare up at Marc. The blond connects eyes with him in silent agreement before he's quickly discarding his shirt as well as his shorts until they're kicked toward the edge of the bed. The Brazilian watches on with tiny moans when Neymar bites too hard or too roughly, though his focus is more on the way Marc's hand slides beneath his briefs to stroke his cock.

    "M-marc—.. Please..? I need—I need.. Meu deus, e-eu preciso de você.."

    Suddenly Neymar halts his administrations, with a frustrated groan from the younger Brazilian, in favor of glancing from him to Marc and back. "Não faça isso. Ele nem sequer falam Português. Pare, Rafinha."

    "You're annoying," murmurs the younger as he shifts his hips to slide along the elder's until he releases a soft moan, tanned hands going to his hips to stop his movements. 

    "Just—just give us a minute, Ney?" Marc queries softly to which the Brazilian obliges and reluctantly climbs off his body, pecking him a final time before he placates himself against one of the plush pillows.

    This time it's Neymar, much like the first time, who watches the two with a hand shoved down his shorts. He watches the softness involved and how Marc takes his time to kiss Rafinha like he was the most important person in the world and—and maybe because he was, he could relate. As envious as he is of the blond, he knows where he's coming from, he too has been in love with the brunet. Perhaps longer than the blond had, actually.

    But he can't complain as he strains to hear the nearly silent exchange the two have in between tender kisses and the way pale hands stroke up and down his thighs. Pale hands avoid his straining cock in favor of brushing along his lower abdomen, scratching his nails bluntly over the skin there, before finally inching lower to offer him a squeeze through the briefs he wears.

    But Rafinha wasn't having that, no, he's quick to wriggle out of the briefs and gasps when Marc's bare hand strokes him, nearly chokes on a moan at the fluidity of his wrist movements. Russet hands grip at his shoulders for purchase, nails digging into the smooth skin to form crimson crescents, as his hips buck into the hot, tight fist that Marc's hand makes.

    "Fuck, fuck, fuck.. Como você está tão sexy, princesa?" Neymar utters as he tightens his own hand his cock, even glancing towards Marc to find his face focused on the task at hand, his pretty blues never once leaving Rafinha's eyes as he strokes him. And—and, okay. The German is sexy, too, but the Brazilian beneath him is untouchable on the scale. 

    "Marc, I _need_." 

    It doesn't even have to be said for the blond to understand the hushed words as he reluctantly tears his hands away from his weeping cock that steadily drizzles with pre-cum, coating his fingers in its soft milky sheen. He nods once simply before he lays a hand on the younger's thigh, making a tiny circle motion with his fingers, silently telling him to turn over.

    Rafinha scrambles to do so, face flushed and lips still unbearably red. He places his palms flat on the comforters then glances back at Marc, a silent exchange of smiles shared between them, before the blond kneads the globes of his ass. The blond temporarily forgets Neymar's presence entirely, save for the soft hisses that echo from beside them, as he strokes his cock a moment before sliding into the hot tightness of Rafinha.

    A strangled sound elicits from the brunet at the action, his hips wriggling back and forth as he adjusts. Cautiously the blond slides his hips back before snapping forward to plunge deeper into the heat of Rafinha's body, making the brunet shift forward with the force of his thrust. He makes another sound, echoing the grunt that Marc makes, and finds his nails digging into the sheets for purchase.

    But Marc doesn't move for a moment, instead glancing at Neymar, whose hand is now paused on his cock. The blond releases a soft sigh, shaking his head to himself, before nodding towards Rafinha. "Look, I know that you—.. Just.. You can join, it's okay." Rafinha makes a sound of approval as he stares glossy-eyed at Neymar as he crawls across the sheets to position himself in front of the younger.

    "Your lips look the prettiest wrapped around my dick, princesa." 

    Despite it all the brunet flushes a deep scarlet over the skin of his russet cheeks as he opens his mouth to allow the elder entry. Neymar's hips involuntarily twitch at that, his hands stroking him a few more times—an impatient grunt echoing from Marc—until he finally traces the head of his cock along the outline of Rafinha's lips, the younger's red tongue making an appearance to lick at the pre-cum that gathers at the tip.

    And, yeah. He can't take it anymore, can't resist any longer. One of his hands guides his cock into the tight, wet heat of Rafinha's mouth while his other hand strokes along the side of his countenance in an act of affection. Chestnut hues stare up at him and the Brazilian swears he can feel his heart swell within his chest like never before and—and, fuck, now he can't think. At least about nothing other than the snug fit Rafinha has him in.

    When he glances up he finds Marc's eyes locked on him, lids narrowed slightly. But a smug smirk forms upon Neymar's lips nonetheless as he glides the hand stroking Rafinha's cheek to the back of his head, applying pressure there until the younger begins a steady bob of his head. Marc's eyes narrow even further, if that's even possible, as he pulls out of Rafinha almost completely before forcefully slamming back into him.

    The youngest makes a strangled noise around Neymar's cock, but his hips are already moving to meet Marc thrust for thrust. Always the eager one, he is, as he slams his hips back against Marc's—the force of his movements sending Neymar deeper down his throat, his lips tightening around him until Neymar is choking on a sob.

    Like that the trio settle into a learned rhythm. Marc thrusts are fluid and measured as he delves deeper into the tight heat that Rafinha offers him while Neymar bucks his hips eagerly into the younger's hot cavern, desperate for more of the snug-sensation that already has his thighs trembling.

    One of Marc's pale hands grips into the younger's hips while the other palm lays flat against his spine, nails gently digging into the skin there. A startled squeak echoes from the brunet but he doesn't falter in the least as he moves out of coordination with Marc's hips, swiveling them around in small circles, circles that make the blond moan deep within his throat. The slight change of the angle has the blond gaining more momentum as his fingers dig what would soon be bruises into the side of Rafinha's hips, quickly losing all resolve for tenderness.

    He angles his hips slightly and holds the younger's hips steady as he withdraws nearly completely once more only to slam to the hilt and pause there for a moment. The movement causes the brunet to choke seriously this time on Neymar's cock, who hisses as his teeth graze along his shaft. Rafinha retracts from Neymar, a trail of saliva connecting his mouth to the elder's cock, glancing up at him apologetically.

    "Watch your teeth, fuck." He murmurs as he smooths the younger's hair down on his head, his hand going to stroke his cock afterwards.

    Rafinha offers a weak smile as he grips at the sheets once more as the blond increases the speed and depth of his thrusts until the younger feels the blond lean over his back. He sighs at the warmth that Marc's chest offers him, even though he's sticky and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He doesn't mind, no, is actually grateful for the closeness as well as the new angle it brings.

    "God, I love you, Rafa.." Hot puffs of air are felt against Rafinha' shoulder, the blond peppering open-mouthed kisses there. "So gorgeous, always so tight.. Always feel so good.." Breathes the blond as he continues to kiss along his flushed shoulder, pausing to nip at the tensed skin there.

    All Rafinha can do is gasp and shudder as he grips the sheets tighter with purpose now, thighs beginning to shudder with the wakes of an orgasm. "M-marc, fuck, I can't—I can't.. Not much l-longer, Marc—.."

    And like that Marc slides an arm beneath his body to find his cock, stroking him quick as opposed to slow. It's erratic movements that match Marc's hips, the way he arches his back to garner a more powerful snap of his hips to meet an eager Rafinha who slams back against him until the sound of skin harshly slapping against skin assaults the blond's eardrums in a delicious symphony.

    Neymar, on the hand, can't stand not receiving any attention. So he presses the tip of his cock against Rafinha's lips once more, coating them with his pre-cum, until the brunet glances up at him and parts mouth once more. The feel of his tongue gliding along the underside of his cock is hot and adds friction, the moans spewing from him at each and every sporadic thrust delivered from Marc is an added bonus, the vibrating sensation that rattles through his cock resonating within every inch of his body.

    Once more his tanned hands finds the back of Rafinha's head, not allowing him much space to bob his head back and forth, instead making him stay firmly in place. Rafinha gazes up helplessly into hazel hues that are alight with pure, unadulterated lust and undying affection. All the brunet can do is moan around his cock that sends pleasure straight through the thickness of his cock until his brain is malfunctioning.

    It's Neymar who cums first down Rafinha's throat, the brunet uttering a startled gasp at the action, but makes swallowing movements with his throat in an attempt to take it all. But it's a domino effect and it thrusts Rafinha into an orgasm as he cums in spurts within Marc's hands, coating his fingers in his cloudy essence, the need to breath becoming an issue.

    But Marc is far too overwhelmed with the snug clenching of Rafinha's walls around his cock but he attempts to hold on to the last bit of remaining sanity, his eyes clenching tightly shut, as he buries himself to the hilt within the confines of Rafinha's body to finally release. He bites into Rafinha's shoulders, the brunet practically sobbing around Neymar's cock, as he rides his orgasm out with sporadic twitches of his hips that echo the frenzied movement of Rafinha's own hips.

    Neymar continues to thrust between Rafinha's pretty, plump lips until beads of cloudy cum begin to dribble from the corners of his lips. Thoroughly satisfied with the outcome, the brunet releases his head, the brunet choking on the mouthful cum he received. He attempts to swallow it all still, eager to please the elder, but it's nearly impossible as he pants and falls onto his elbows with his head pressed into the comforters.

    "He was choking," weakly breathes the blond as he kisses along Rafinha's neck, soothing him through his high, even regardless of the whiteness that still clouds his vision. He turns his attention to Rafinha now though, "I love you.. Eu te amo.. Ich liebe dich.." The frenzied twitching of his hips begins to cease as he instead stills his hips to make barely there thrusts into the tightness that surrounds his cock until he finally halts completely with a spent sigh.

    Neymar plops down within the comforters, cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips ever so slightly parted to release breathy pants. He gulps deeply then threads his fingers through raven locks, massaging the pads of his fingers into Rafinha's scalp. "He could take it.. Knew he could.." Murmurs the Brazilian as he spares a glance at Marc, who is peering at him over Rafinha's shoulder.

    Marc is silent for a moment as he presses another tender kiss to the younger's neck, then shifting upwards to press another to his cheek, letting his lips linger there. "Y-yeah.. He did, yeah.." One of his fingers, the one not coated in his release, comes up to stroke along the back of Rafinha's head fondly. "Are you okay, liebling?"

    Silence is the only answer received for a solid minute and a half as the Brazilian attempts to gather his breath. He utters a soft groan as he blindly reaches for Marc behind him until pale fingers twine with his. Finally, he lifts his head, looking directly at Neymar who offers an apologetic smile. His other hand shifts from the comforters to weakly reach for his, which the elder eagerly obliges to. 

    "I hate you, I hope you c-choke on a dick." Husks the Brazilian as he playfully scowls at Neymar, who only chuckles in response.

    "You already did that for me," 

    Marc rolls his eyes at that as he reluctantly withdraws from the younger's body, the brunet responding with a soft hiss as he does so. "And you, Marquinho.. I love you, so much. But I think you broke my ass."

    Marc utters a weak laugh as he presses another kiss to his shoulder then shifts to nuzzle his nose against the nape of his neck, the tiny hairs that clinging to his sweaty neck. "Unlike Ney, I'll actually apologize for it." He retracts one of his idle hands to soothing glide along the globes of his ass, smoothing along the smooth skin there. "We'll get you a bath in a minute, yeah?"

    "Actually, hold that thought—I have to pee." Neymar states abruptly as he scrambles off the bed, nearly slipping onto the floor in his wake, to seek out the adjoining bathroom leaving the couple alone on the bed.

    "And then there were two," hums Rafinha as he shifts beneath the weight of Marc's body. "How come during sex I never notice how heavy you are?"

    The blond can only chuckle heartily at that as he peels away from his back in favor of laying back against his haunches, "Is that better?"

    "Not really, it's a lot warmer with you on top of me." Rafinha rubs at his arms at the lack of warmth but it doesn't last for long as Marc opens his arms towards him, the brunet more than content with crawling the short distance to find himself in the blond's warm embrace. "I love you, Marc."

    Once more silence fills the room as the two smile at each other before meeting each other halfway for a tender kiss that is packed with passion, letting their lips linger against the latter, their foreheads pressed firmly together. Like that the two revel in each other's company, completely unaware of the melancholy stare that they receive from the cracked bathroom door. 

    Neymar stands there thoughtfully for a moment, not daring to intrude on the two. Even though he preferred not to ponder it often, it's times like this where he realizes that Rafinha would never genuinely be his. Because he belonged with Marc, they fit together like missing halves of a puzzle, and the brunet would always be drawn to him much like a moth to a burning flame.

    Awkwardly, he clears his throat then points towards the bedroom door when he garners their attention. "I, um—I should go now, I think. Doubt there's any room for me in your cuddle-fest, right?" Nervous laughter bubbles from the Brazilian as he wavers from foot to foot, rubbing bashfully at his upper arm.

    Marc spares a glance at Rafinha, the two silently immersed in a silent exchange, before the blond offers an inviting smile. "Even if I don't like you, there's always room." One of his arms, the one not currently wrapped tightly around Rafinha, opens and extends toward the Brazilian whose face brightens considerably.

    And despite the tension between the two men, Neymar knows that somewhere the two do like each other. At least enough to share a bed in post-coital bliss. So he stands in the doorway of the bathroom a moment longer before his feet send him into motion where he's crawling onto the bed, fitting into the space that Marc offers him. And, yeah, he thinks he feels a pair of lips press into the crown of his skull but he could just be imagining things.

    "Hey Ney?"

    Hazel eyes drowsily glance towards Rafinha, who he's currently pressed against. "Yeah?"

    "You're apart of us, you know that, right?"

    Perhaps post-bliss was making him feel euphoric, or at least that's the way he prefers to explain the way his eyes go glassy and his lower lip begins to tremble. "Yeah? Even G.I. German thinks so?" 

    Cerulean hues roll at that but there's a small smile playing on his lips nonetheless, "I like it better when you're not talking actually."

    "Good enough."

**Author's Note:**

> So, like.
> 
> I dunno why I see Neymar as a selfish lover, but I mean, yeah. Lol~ He's still presh though :3 
> 
> I tried to show Ney as sort of selfish with his pleasure with Marc a more giving lover. 
> 
> Either way, yup. I'm the new ambassador for this ot3, I need to see it rise for my sake. Lmao


End file.
